Switch
by Redzik
Summary: The other end of the line was silent as well. The sound of their breathing, barely heard through the connection was the only noise between them for a minute. Then. "Jason," in a broken voice.
1. Chapter 1

Jason groaned as he was woken up by the loud voices demanding his attention. He burrowed deeper into the warmth of his soft pillows and fluffy blankets.

Wait.

Pillow _s_?!

His head shoot up, taking in the unfamiliar room he was sleeping in.

It was obviously a bedroom. The bed was pushed against the far wall, opposite to the open window from where the sunlight was streaming in. There was a wardrobe, half-open, with clothes falling out of it. A desk with a mess of a papers, that looked like case files. A few shelves with personal items, some books and pictures. There was laundry strewn across the floor and, Jason squinted, yep, Nightwing's costume tossed carelessly in the corner so it was mostly out of sight.

Shit! How he did end up in Dick's apartment in Blüdhaven?!

"Grayson!" one of the voices that caused him to wake up in this nightmare shouted.

Jason didn't know the voice, but he certainly knew the face. Talia provided him with photos of the Batfamily, especially the now Red Robin. His Replacement. Tim Drake.

The teenager was glaring at him with his blue eyes and crossed arms. Next to him stood a kid, with tanned skin and calculating blue eyes. The current Robin. This, Jason knew, but nothing besides that. Talia was curiously quiet about this kid.

They both were wearing pajamas and looked extremely annoyed.

"Grayson," Drake repeated, looking at Jason for some reason. "I demand you fix this!"

"Huh?" Jason asked eloquently.

"Are you alright?" the kid sounded concerned, eyeing him critically.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jason managed. That was not _his_ voice. Fuck. "Just a rough night. What's going on?"

The kid sighed and let himself fall down on the bed beside Jason. What the fucking hell?! Jason eyed him as if he was a snake poised to strike at a moment's notice.

"We switched bodies," the kid explained, muffled by the covers. "And as you can see, Damian is not taking it very well. Neither do I, honestly. So please, Dick, help."

Oh. _Oh_. That meant Jason was in Dick's body and Dick was... Shit! Shit shit shit. Maybe if he acted fast, he could somehow rescue his carefully made plans. Yeah, who he was trying to kid? The second Dick realized that Jason was alive, he would tattle about it to Bruce and Jason will have a Bat breathing down his neck in no time. Actually, he probably should start running already. He had to get rid of the brats first though, without raising anymore suspicions than he already had so far. What would Dick do? Besides, fuck, cuddling them to death and, ugh, calling them some cute names like 'Little Wing'.

Jason's chest constricted at the thought of Dick calling somebody else that. Of him giving his name to another person, like Bruce did with Robin. It was weird, that tight feeling, and anger and jealousy rearing their heads with it. He didn't even like that name, so why did he care if Dick wanted to call somebody else by it?

"And you came all the way to Blüdhaven for that?" Jason sighed, shaking his head, doing his best to sound fond and exasperated. "Aren't there easier ways? Like," Jason paused dramatically, the brats hanging onto his every word, "telling Bruce?"

Drake, no, Damian apparently, scowled harder at him. Tim buried his face in the pillow with a groan.

"We weren't supposed to patrol yesterday," Damian mumbled, suddenly looking at the floor.

"Though luck," Jason smirked, getting up and stretching. Dick's body was strong and nimble, not like his own heavy with muscles. "I need to get to work," his research confirmed that Dick still was a police officer so he had an excellent excuse. "So you have to go back to Gotham, tell Bruce and face the consequences of your actions, little birds."

The brats whined and complained, but finally Jason was able to kick them out.

He stood in the middle of the room, just breathing for a minute. And then a phone rang.

With dread he dragged himself to the bedside table and took the cell. As he suspected, the call was from a blocked number. He sighed and pressed the green button. Lifted the phone to his ear. Said nothing.

The other end of the line was silent as well. The sound of their breathing, barely heard through the connection was the only noise between them for a minute. Then.

"Jason," in a broken voice. Jason's own voice. Jason didn't even thought he could sound like that.


	2. Chapter 2

Dick semi woke up because he was freezing. He grumbled and moved his hand around the bed in search of his many warm blankets. His hand found only the thin blanket he was already cocooned in. His brows furrowed in displeasure and he reached up instead to snatch one of the fluffy pillows to cuddle for warmth. He was met with a hard, flattened lump of material and whatever stuffing was used to make this excuse for a pillow he was half laying on. Come to think about it, the bed was a lot harder, almost stiff as a board, than the one he went to sleep in.

Dick cautiously peeked one eye open and immediately sat up, suddenly wide awake and on high alert.

He wasn't in his bedroom in Blüdhaven. No. He was in a small, dark room. The bed was tucked into a corner hidden by the part of the wall with an entrance to the room. It was facing a window, which was covered by thick curtains. Beside the bed was a small bedside drawer with a barely holding itself together lamp without a shade, a half finished book and a pistol. Opposite the bed was a table and a chair with brown leather jacket thrown over the backrest. The wall over the table was covered in clippings from the newspapers.

Cautiously, Dick edged away from the handgun as if it was going to go off if he moved too fast to the end of the bed closer to the window. He stood up, ducking down to avoid hitting the ceiling and slowly tucked the curtain aside. It didn't improve the lighting in the room. In fact Dick preferred the curtains to the glass less window covered with boards and plastic foil.

Sighing, Dick returned the curtain to it's place and moved back to turn on the lamp and looked around, taking in more details. There were shoes by the bed. Black, heavy combat boots. Dick put them on, not wanting to leave his bare feet at the mercy of the dirty carpet. He moved to the table. On the chair were neatly folded clothes. The table was littered with notes and blueprints of some buildings, but Dick's attention was drawn to the wall. There were pictures and articles of him, Tim and Bruce in and out of the costume. Some of them had holes in them, he noted that for all of Bruce's pictures and a few of Tim's. One even still had a knife embedded in the place where Red Robin's face was. There was only one photo of Robin, with a question mark written on it.

Dick gritted his teeth. Whoever owned this place had a serious grudge against Batman and Red Robin and knew their identities. He needed to let Bruce know. After he would investigate a little more.

The doorless entrance led to the short corridor. On the right was a wardrobe with sliding door, on the left were doors with light switch on the side. He peeked into the wardrobe. It was empty, besides the bag filled with various weapons, one change of clothes, a few burner phones and a red helmet. Dick raised an eyebrow at it, took one of the phones and turned to examine the locked room. It turned out to be a bathroom. On the right was a sink, right in front of him the toilet and on the left was a half ripped out shower curtain, separating a part of the tiny space for the actual shower. Dick grimaced, but squeezed himself inside, put the phone on the shelf above the sink and took care of the business he realized he had the moment he discovered the bathroom. He turned to the sink to wash his hands and splashed some water on his face to freshen up. He lifted his eyes to the mirror hanging above the shelf out of habit and froze.

The face staring back at him wasn't his own.

Defined jaw, hard bluegreen eyes, short black hair with a white fringe on the front, a serious case of muscles. Dick leaned a little closer to stare at his reflection. The man was familiar somehow. He saw him before. He leaned closer still, the light shining from such an angle that made his eyes blue and suddenly Dick knew. He reared back in shock, his hand flying to his mouth to muffle his startled gasp.

It was Jason. Jason. His little brother.

Dick's eyes watered as he reached to touch the face in the mirror. Jason's face. Jason's grown up face. Which Dick was currently wearing. Which meant Jason was alive. And probably in Dick's body. And oh God his little brother was alive.

A sob escaped him, followed by another. He splashed his face again, to help himself to calm down. His eyes landed on the phone.

He should call Bruce. Tell him everything, so they could bring Jay home. But… He remembered the clippings on the wall. Clearly Jason didn't harbor any warm feelings toward Bruce and Tim at the moment, so he didn't think it was good idea to involve them just yet. Besides he was feeling selfish. He wanted to keep Jason for himself for now. Bruce didn't even tell him Jason died, so why Dick should tell him his little brother was alive and kicking asses?

His mind made up, he picked the cell and dialed his own number, nervously waiting for the pick up on the other side of the line. What would Jason say? What _he_ would say? What he should even say? There wasn't any protocol for this.

The call connected, but the lump in his throat prevented Dick from saying something. Jason didn't say anything either.

There was silence, before Dick managed to strangle out a very broken "Jason".

"Jason," he repeated more easily a moment later. "Little Wing."

"Don't," Jason growled with Dick's voice. "Don't call me that."

"Jason," Dick amended, afraid to scare him off. "Jason."

God, Dick was so pathetic. He couldn't say anything beside his brother's name.

"Did you call Bruce?" Jason demanded.

"What?" Dick choked out. Oh, look it, progress. "No!"

Jason's sigh of relief was very audible.

"And even if I did," Dick sniffed wetly, "I have no idea where I am."

"Are you crying?" Jason sounded horrified. "Jesus Christ, don't you dare. Not in my body, you hear me?"

Dick laughed and cried some more. It was real. Jason was really alive and talking to him.

"I swear to God, Dickhead," his little brother threatened, "I'll wring your neck."

"Jason, I..." Dick sniffed. "Please."

Jason heaved a put-upon sigh, but he sounded a bit more gentle when he started speaking again.

"I'm coming to get you. Just stay there, don't call Bruce or anybody and try not to look too pathetic when I get there, okay? Stay there."

"Okay," Dick agreed quietly.

"Good," Jason stated. "I'll be there soon."

The connection ended and Dick stared at the phone for a few minutes. He wanted to call back and have Jason talk to him until he could see him in person, but his little brother was already annoyed with his clinging.

He shook himself and walked back to the room to get dressed. Then he pulled the bag from the wardrobe and started packing Jason's belongings. Like hell he was allowing Jason to stay in this hole. Whether he liked it or not, his little brother was coming home with him.


	3. Chapter 3

As Jason predicted Dick looked downright pitiful when he finally got to the hole in the wall he was staying in. It took some time to get there, first from Blüdhaven to Gotham and then to this specific place. Jason thought it gave Dick plenty of time to calm down and get used to the idea. But no. Dick burst into uncontrollable sobs the second he got through the door and latched onto him like a leech. It wouldn't be much of a problem if Dick wasn't in Jason's body. Not only he was taller, but he had enhanced strength at his disposal. Which he was using to squeeze the life out of Jason right now.

"Can't breathe!" Jason gasped out. He felt something give in his chest and he screamed in pain.

Dick immediately let go stumbling back, eyes wide and wet.

Jason groaned as he caught his breath and prodded at his ribs. He didn't think any were broken, but some were definitely cracked.

"Fuck, Dick!" Jason glared at his brother. "You need to be more careful!"

"I'm sorry!" Dick whimpered, "I'm sorry, I don't know… sorry. Are you alright?" he made a step toward Jason reaching for him, but he stopped a second later and threw himself back all the way to the other side of the room with an anguished cry. "I'm so so sorry!"

Geez, Dick was a perfect picture of the patheticness. Eyes red rimmed and swimming with tears, wet cheeks, runny nose, hunched pose shaking with sobs, and all of that packed in Jason's manly body. He was so going to kill the bastard if someone else got to see him look like that.

Jason held back a sigh.

"Dick," he said gently, coming over and softly laying a hand on the heaving shoulder. "You need to calm down, alright? I'm fine. Just a couple of cracked ribs. Nothing new. I'll live. But you need to calm down before you get worse."

"I'm sorry," Dick hiccuped. "I don't know what's happening. I didn't meant to hurt you!"

"I know," Jason soothed, massaging the tense shoulder. "Come here. Lie down," he ordered gesturing at the bed.

Dick followed his instructions like a puppy, getting his massive body on the bed and curling into a small ball of misery.

"That's it," Jason murmured. He sat down next to Dick and started running his hands over his hair and shoulders. "Just breathe."

Jason was practically breaking in hives at the display of affection, but Dick was a creature of comfort and the gentle touch was a sure way to calm him down. And Jason needed Dick to calm down. He didn't know how the Pit would affect him. With Jason it was a murderous rage, but with Dick? Better not to find out. Ever.

It wasn't how he imagined it. Jason had plans on blasting into the lives of the Batfamily and burning them all to the ground. Well… not Alfred, and maybe Dick. He definitely did not plan to swap bodies with Dick and then having to comfort him.

It was all of those brats fault. If they didn't go out, then they wouldn't get into this mess and Jason would be free to do as he pleased. Now all his plans laid in ruins.

"It's real, isn't it?' Dick sniffed, looking at him. "You're really here?"

"Yes, Dick," Jason sighed. "I'm here. In your body. You're in mine. And the brats won't know what hit them."

"What?" Dick frowned.

"Apparently they went on patrol when they weren't supposed to," Jason shrugged and stood up. "And it led to this," he gestured between them. "They switched too."

"Oh," Dick watched him carefully. "You met Tim and Damian?"

"I did," Jason narrowed his eyes at him. "They invaded m-yo- the bed while I was sleeping in it."

"Yeah, Tim does that," Dick agreed. "Are you… mad at him?" he asked hesitantly, remembering the pictures on the wall.

"Mad?" Jason snorted. "Mad doesn't begin to cover it. But we're not having this conversation. Not here. Are you okay now?"

"Are you?" Dick countered getting up. "Let me see."

Jason rolled his eyes but stood still while Dick gently checked his ribs.

"Just cracked," Dick confirmed with relief. "Take it easy for a while."

"I know, Dick," Jason smirked. "Now come. We have to get out of Gotham before Bruce find us."

"Yeah, Little Wing," Dick grinned. He hefted the bag off the floor and went for the door. "Let's go home."

"Home?" Jason stared after him, thrown a little with the mood switch. "What home? Dick?! I'm not going to the manor!"


End file.
